Highland Sanctuary

by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

  Serena held up her hand. "In that case, I won't ask ye about it, for I want to be completely surprised when I get a chance to read it."

  "Are ye going for a long walk?" From the advantage of her height, Birkita glanced over Serena's head to her mother and smiled in greeting.

  "Only to Kyla's," Evelina said. "She invited us over for the afternoon."

  "Oh, I long for a new gown. Even though Da sold a few new soles to some of the MacKenzie clansmen, 'twas only enough left over for a new book, not a gown. "

  "Birkita!" A woman called from the house. A brown head appeared, leaning out the door to reveal Rosheen, their younger sister.

  Looking back, Birkita sighed with a heavy spirit. "Good day to ye both. I'm needed just now. Enjoy yer afternoon walk."

  Birkita picked up her pail of water and stomped toward the house. Serena glanced at her mother, struggling to hold back her mirth. A slight sound escaped as she covered her mouth.

  Serena's mother gave her a stern look with her lips forming a thin line and her dark eyebrows rising. "It isn't like ye to laugh at others, Serena."

  "I'm not." She shook her head as they continued walking. "I was only thinking that if given a choice between a new fine gown and a book, Birkita would still choose the book. Think how surprised she'll be to receive a new fine gown in addition to her new book."

  "Aye, I believe ye're right on that account." Evelina nodded, her eyes on the well-worn path ahead of them.

  As they passed the next house, Quinn's deep voice bellowed a greeting. He chopped wood on a stump by the shaded side of his tall but humble home. Phelan lay a few feet away, his ears pointed straight up, always aware of his surroundings. His tail flapped against the thick cushioned grass. A few seconds later he bounced to his feet and ran toward them.

  "Oh, dear!" Evelina stiffened. "Ye know how I dislike animals."

  "Brace yerself, Mither!" Serena warned.

  Instead of leaping upon them as they feared, Phelan ran circles around them. He barked in a happy salutation. After a few laps, he calmed and trotted beside them. Her mother grabbed her arm, digging her nails in Serena's flesh.

  "Mither, ye know he won't hurt ye." Serena pried Evelina's fingers loose and rubbed her sore arm. "He has a protective, but gentle spirit about him."

  "Aye, but he doesn't know me as he knows ye. And I've seen him knock others over trying to play. The wolf doesn't know his own strength, much like his owner."

  Serena linked her arm through her mother's and offered what she hoped was an assuring grin. "And that's exactly why ye're safe walking with me."

  "Phalen, ye're naught but a traitor!" Quinn called behind them. In response, the wolf looked back at him, raised his snout, and grunted as if teasing him.

  A while later, they reached Kyla's house. The front door stood ajar. Phelan barked, announcing their arrival and Kyla rushed outside to greet them.

  "I'm so glad ye've come! I've got some good news for ye both." She crooked a finger for them to follow her inside.

  Serena blinked, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the dark interior. Sunlight filtered through the door at an angle, illuminating a short path into the cottage. The walls and corners remained in the shadows.

  "Please, sit down." Kyla motioned to two wooden chairs by the wall to the right side of the door. She hurried to a dark corner and carried two exquisite gowns, one a green satin with a plaid underskirt of dark blue with green and purple lines. The other gown was made of gold satin and white lace trimming and a plaid underskirt of brown with yellow and red lines. "With the last measure I took of ye, I've been working on these gowns. Which one do ye prefer for the feast?"

  "They're beautiful, Kyla!" Evelina reached for the gold one.

  "Indeed." Serena touched the smooth, thick material of the green gown. It was cool against her skin. "Ye have bonny eyes, the color of peat moss, which gives Scotland its natural beauty." Gavin's voice whispered to her heart's memory.

  Serena thought back to the contents of the chests from Iain. "I don't remember the green fabric or this plaid among the materials I brought to ye."

  "A fine gentleman brought the green by and asked me to make it for ye. He said it would match yer eyes. Lass, I believe ye've caught the eye of two admirers, ye have. Now ye'll have to choose. Which one will it be?" Kyla held a gown in each hand.

  Without a doubt, she knew which one. Gavin had made a long trip into town. Iain had merely given her an old chest of fabrics in a sewing room he had found. Gavin had chosen the perfect material. Iain had no idea what the chests contained. She knew which man admired her eyes.

  The gift! Gavin had said he'd brought back a gift for her, but among all of Iain's fabrics floating around he must have lost the courage to give it to her. Her heart swelled with love. Was it love?

  Kyla laughed and looked at Evelina. "I do believe I'm enjoying this. Look at those rosy cheeks. Lass, it isn't often I've seen ye blush. After all ye've done to help me through my grief, I'm honored to be a part of such a thoughtful favor for ye."

  "I know which one." Serena met Kyla's sparkling brown gaze. "The green."

  Gavin watched the entrance to the great hall, hoping Serena would be wearing the green gown instead of the red one he'd seen her sewing from the laird's chests. He didn't know why it mattered since she may not realize it hadn't come from the laird. Would Kyla have told her? His feelings were raw and foreign. Yet, he couldn't help it.

  Servants rushed to cover two long tables and a shorter one upon the dais with white table linens. Torches burned on the walls on each side of the scarlet tapestry that had been hung for the occasion. Another servant lit candles on the tables.

  The place had been transformed in one afternoon from the dark forlorn condition to a lively, cheerful hall. It now reminded him of home. A familiar longing for MacKenzie Castle pressed at him. He enjoyed traveling, had seen much of the world, but a lingering desire to settle down in his own home had begun to smolder in his heart.

  "Gavin, what do ye think?" Footsteps approached from behind with Iain MacBraigh's voice. "Is the great hall not magnificent?"

  Turning, Gavin witnessed a prideful smile on the laird's face. Iain leaned his head back perusing the high walls. He raised a hand, gesturing to their surroundings. "Serena Boyd was born to run a castle. She found this tapestry folded in an auld chest, had the servants clean and scent them. This place has long needed a woman's touch. I would have ordered the tapestry hung without any scents."

  "I thought I smelled a light aroma of some sort." Gavin breathed deeply. Heather and juniper lingered of her scent. A deeper longing than he had felt for home seized his chest . . . longing for a wife. He could imagine no one but Serena in that role. He needed her.

  They lived in separate worlds. She believed herself beneath his station, a step closer to Iain's world. Gavin's chest constricted, and he clenched his teeth, determined not to show his discomfort. The startling realization came at a great cost. Would his family accept her? If not, could he give up his inheritance—his birthright?

  Servants placed some flowers in a tall piece of pottery in the center of each table, followed by bowls of assorted fruits.

  "The flowers are nice," Gavin said.

  "Aye." Iain nodded. "Serena's idea. I ordered a fire in the hearth, but she reminded me that if there is to be dancing later, the guests may become overheated and the smoke would overtake the pleasant aromas."

  More people arrived at the front entrance where a servant answered the door.

  "Excuse me, Gavin. I must greet the newly arrived guests." Iain strode away, leaving Gavin to ponder his thoughts.

  Craig and Leith talked in a corner. Several other members of his clan were scattered about the great hall. Gavin had never liked large events. He preferred conversing with people in more quiet settings, where the measure of a man's character could be better assessed. At large feasts as this, every word was planned with the goal of improving one's ranking.

  "Here, ye look like ye could use
this." Roan pressed a goblet of wine into his hand.

  "And what am I doing to give ye that impression?" Gavin raised an eyebrow as he accepted the dark liquid. He sniffed the fermented brew, ensuring it didn't contain a sour smell. Good wine seemed to be scarce among so many these days. The sweet aroma made his mouth water.

  "Yer scowl," Roan answered.

  Lady Fiona appeared on Iain's arm, followed by her father escorting another young lass. Gavin tensed. The lady had struck him as a fortune hunter, intent to win a husband of quality birth and who had plenty lining the coffers.

  She greeted Leith in a false pretense of interest. Gavin groaned, hoping the lad didn't fall for her forged charm. Raising the goblet to his lips, Gavin tasted the dark wine. It burned like a sore throat. He took a deep breath. His nose stung and eyes watered as the fiery liquid thrust his lively senses into a new zeal.

  "I'm afraid Leith will soon discover Lady Fiona's venom," Gavin said.

  Roan met Gavin's gaze, then turned to study Leith and Lady Fiona. "Could be a lesson well worth the risk." He grinned.

  The knocker echoed through the great hall like a deep drum. The interruption gave Gavin time to consider the biting response about to roll off his tongue.

  "So, this is the infamous Serena Boyd I've been hearing about?" Lady Fiona's tone rose to a high pitch.

  Gavin froze. A vision of Serena in green satin and lace over an underskirt of a dark blue plaid with green and purple lines drained his throat dry. He felt like a parched man staring at a water fountain.

  Satisfaction swelled in his chest, knowing she had chosen his fabric. While Iain introduced Lady Fiona, a shy smile crossed Serena's face as she shook her long black hair over her shoulder. It fell to her waist. Floral ribbons of ivory tied the strands on each side out of her face. Evelina stood beside her in the red gown that Gavin remembered Serena altering. A ravenous heat brewed in his lungs, robbing him of his next breath. He coughed, heading toward her.

  At the sound, Serena's gaze lifted to his. The pulse in his throat quickened as her moss-colored eyes brightened. Her pink lips curled in a favorable smile. "Gavin! I see ye've already arrived."

  "Aye, I've been eagerly awaiting yer arrival." He turned to Evelina and inclined his head. "Evelina, ye look lovely in red. It's a fine night for dancing after dinner. I understand a harpist will be playing soft melodies during dinner." Gavin motioned to a woman off to the side between the dais and the first long table. She sat in a wood chair, plucking each chord one at a time to fine tune her instrument.

  "I've always enjoyed harp music. This will be a rare treat as no one in the village owns such a fine piece," Serena said.

  "I should say not!" Lady Fiona narrowed her eyes and tilted her nose in the air. "An elegant harp would be out of place in those wee hovels. Where would one put it?"

  "True." Serena spoke before Gavin could.

  Gavin wanted to hurl Lady Fiona's insult back at her, but as the host it was Iain's place.

  "Lady Fiona, I always thought yer gentle breeding would constitute compassion for those less fortunate than yerself." The laird's lips thinned and his eyes darkened like coal.

  Serena met Lady Fiona's gaze. "Indeed, I suppose it would take a great deal of wit to organize such a wee space. Fortunately for ye, Lady Fiona, ye'll never be in such need." Serena turned to Gavin. "To answer yer question, aye, we both intend to dance. Right, Mither?"

  Evelina turned her scowling expression from Lady Fiona and offered a forced smile. "After much persuasion from Serena, I finally consented."

  "I didn't mean to imply that I possess a lack of compassion." Lady Fiona's complexion turned crimson, her gray eyes troubled. "Only that they're less likely to own such luxuries." She gave a nervous laugh. "And speaking of good manners, I need to find my cousin and make introductions for her. Please excuse me." She strayed away to where her father and cousin conversed with other guests.

  "I must say, I'm quite impressed with how well ye handled her rude insolence." Gavin regarded Serena with even more respect. "Truth be known, I didn't think ye'd respond."

  "Neither did I," Iain shook his head.

  "Why not?" Serena's wide gaze snapped from Gavin to Iain and back again.

  "I don't really know." Gavin shrugged. "I suppose because ye seem so reserved."

  "Aye, but I'm more honest than reserved, which only means I don't have a quick temper. It doesn't mean I never get angry or that I won't defend myself."

  He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty. A biblical proverb Father Mike had taught him when he was a child came to mind. He missed Father Mike's wise counsel. As the MacKenzie Clan priest, he had served their family's spiritual needs for many years. He was also one of the few who had a complete copy of the Latin Bible, rather than copied excerpts of ancient scrolls.

  A servant announced that the feast was ready to be served. Gavin and Leith were seated at the dais table with the laird, the earl, and his family. Serena and her mother were placed at the lower tables with other invited guests from town and a few villagers, including Father Tomas.

  Iain stood and raised his palms out. "May I have yer attention, please?" The sound of Iain's voice calmed the great hall, as conversations faded. All eyes lifted toward him. "I would like to introduce our guests of honor. Please welcome Gavin MacKenzie, the eldest son of Birk MacKenzie of Kintail at Eileen Donan, Chieftain of Clan MacKenzie."

  Gavin stood and gave a bow. He forced a smile even though he disliked being noticed by everyone.

  "And Leith MacKenzie, Birk's youngest son."

  Leith, much more comfortable with the attention, stood and bowed with a broad grin.

  "The MacKenzie brothers are here with an army of warriors making long-needed repairs to Braigh Castle. Gavin assures me it's a great way to keep unwed men busy in times of peace."

  Some of the guests laughed and nodded in understanding, while clapping.

  The meal was served consisting of pork roast, stewed carrots, potatoes, and bread. Gavin could hardly enjoy the fine food as he disliked being separated from Serena. She laughed and conversed with others as Gavin wished he was part of their lively table.

  Lady Fiona tried to engage him in more conversation, but he kept his answers short, but polite, to discourage her. After three failed attempts, she finally turned to Iain, who couldn't escape as easily since they were sitting closer.

  When Iain finally announced that the hall would be cleared for dancing, Gavin could hardly contain his excitement. He felt like a tender lad, ripe with the coming of age, not the one score and ten years that had branded him with plenty of experience. He paced back and forth as the tables were cleared and moved.

  The musicians settled around the harpist, complete with fiddlers, drummers, pipers, flute players, and a bag piper. For a brief moment, Gavin thought of his lute at home, but one glance at Serena talking with Tomas and her mother on a bench by the hearth, and all he could think about was holding her in his arms for that first dance.

  The music began. With his sights on Serena, he strode toward her. His heart pounded in time with the drums. Iain stepped in front of Serena, a few feet away, blocking Gavin's view.

  "I'd be honored if ye'd share this dance with me, lass," Iain's voice spoke clear through the music around them.

  Gavin stopped, his chest heavy with concern, as he waited for her response. Would she honor her promise to him or feel obligated to Iain since he was her host and laird? She faltered. Her silence lengthened. With a hammering heart full of disappointment, Gavin strode away.